


Better People

by HandsomeHiJacked



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Humor, Not Beta Read, Pack Building, Pack Dad Derek, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Set before season 3 ruined me, Tags Are Hard, Wolf Pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:44:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsomeHiJacked/pseuds/HandsomeHiJacked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There should have been fine print read before accepting the bite. </p>
<p>(Erica and Derek feels)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better People

**Author's Note:**

> Set during the earlier stages of season 2...

 

 Werewolves Don't Wear Nail Polish

 

“You know, I can handle the excess hair, the genocidal hunters and the temptation to kill people and eat livers on a full moons...but this is ridiculous.” Erica continued to stretch and fan her fingers. Watching each claw slowly swell and extend from the bed of her nail.

 

When Derek first showed her the wolf, she'd been so snug between terrified and inspired she never thought to ask about little details. Would she shed like a dog? Could she actually turn into a wolf like in some books? Where do the teeth go when you're not using them? Of course these were answered after the bite as Isaac and she experimented with their new powers and abilities. Derek watching his new Betas carefully from his broody, dark corner. There was a small sense of smug pleasure radiating from their Alpha-a warm pulse of enjoyment as they ran amuck through the abandoned station. Turning and twisting their bodies, snapping and clawing one another with giddy shrills of laughter and new found freedom. Impossible not to feel invulnerable against the past tragedies of their lives.

 

Erica had just never stopped to ask about the little stuff.

 

“God dammit!” She lobs the small bottle of nail polish away, watching it crash through dusty glass beside Boyd's head. The sound echoes through the gloomy “Derek Cave” and causes Isaac to pause in his training. Looking up to his pack mate with annoyance.

 

“Please don't make this place any worse. I actually sleep here.”

 

“So does Derek, so I don't give a fuck.” Scowling, the boys can feel her irritation as she stares twisted and furious at her clawed hand. Boyd and Isaac realized very quickly how much more sensitive they were to Erica's emotions than one another. Derek's only explanation was that Erica wasn't trying to contain herself and she responded that she was tired of exactly that. So Isaac couldn't ignore the harsh static broadcasting itself from their female pack mate. Like a damn fly in his ear that was biting at the skin and wouldn't stop.

 

“What's the problem?” Boyd asks, setting down his book and moving to investigate Erica's predicament.

 

“This!” Flicks her claws in his face, making Isaac flinch from the sudden movement then hate himself a little for it. “Look at my nails!” The claws are soon sheathed, quickly dissolving back into their well trimmed human shape, and the boys soon understood her complaint. The polish she'd just spent twenty minutes so delicately brushing onto each individual finger was now stretched and cracked. Isaac personally didn't see the big deal, the nail polish didn't grow with the claw, so what? But Erica was one mess of disturbing emotion and looked ready to rip the nail off. Like the sight personally offended her.

 

“Just don't wear nail polish then?” He countered with a roll of eyes and ignored the way Boyd was looking at him from the side. “It's not like your nails matter. Considering your skirts leave no room for imagination I seriously doubt anyone gives a damn what color your nails are.”

 

“Shut up Isaac.” She out right snarled, flashing thick teeth and rising from the couch made of old blankets and crates. Funny how two of the wolves actually had homes to go to but insisted on dwelling in their Alpha's den like needy puppies. Despite the clear discomfort, it seemed to have a reassuring affect on them. Like coming home. Though even being surrounded in Derek's scent wasn't enough to calm Erica down, eyes sharp yellow and knocking Isaac away so hard as she stormed past, the other wolf toppled over head first into a stack of abandoned building materials.

 

“What the hell?!” He yelped, scrambling up, fully prepared for another fight only to watch Erica disappear up the cracked cement stairs. All superficial damage, bruising and bumps healing so quickly he felt the ache of it worse than the injury itself. “What's her problem!?” Spits out and somehow surprised that Boyd was watching him with annoyance rather than support. Why he ever thought Boyd would take his side over Erica's, he didn't know.

 

“Because you're acting like an ass.” Derek's voice sneaking up on them would never be less startling, no matter how many days or weeks they were his Betas. Isaac often wondered if Derek was a hide and seek champion as a child. Which sadly, only reminded Isaac that he was incapable of imagining Derek as a child. So it always ended in a very unsettling image of frightening, leather bound twenty something year old Derek chasing children on a playground.

 

“She broke your window.” He defended, motioning half-assed to the broken glass which looked no different than the state of every other window. Dusty, chipped and ruined. There was a metaphor somewhere in there about Derek, he just knew it.

 

“Stay here.” Derek ordered and Boyd sat his ass right back down and returned to his book, leaving Isaac stunned and confused as Derek went after their pack mate.

 

“I'm missing something, aren't I?” Asked, nodding towards were Derek once again refused to use stairs and pounced up the steps following Erica.

 

“Dude. So much.” Boyd answered, reading his book and settling himself down onto uncomfortable cement and dust. “You know, for a guy with problems of his own, you're really not sensitive to others.”

 

Somehow that bothered Isaac more than his Alpha calling him an ass.

 

Derek caught up to Erica in record time, meaning she ran right into him coming around a corner and screamed like a defenseless girl she no longer was. He didn't smile or smirk, just waited until she calmed down and seemed to fall into a rigid posture. Refusing to meet his eyes though her body was still facing him.

 

“Is there a problem?” His voice is more so a rumble, low in his chest and only for her ears though the world around them is practically empty. Late in the evening with only the odd car passing by on their way home. It's quiet enough neither really need their superior senses to hear the crickets stretching to begin their dusk serenade.

 

“What, I need permission now to go home, oh mighty Alpha?” Erica might regret copping an attitude with Derek on most occasions (as her Alpha hardly seems reluctant to put his Betas in their place) but right now she's numbed to any and all thoughts of danger or threat. Arms wrapped tight around her middle, shivering in the cooling air despite both of them knowing it takes more than a chill wind to make a wolf cold.

 

“Spit it out.” She's half expecting him to pull the “angry red alpha glare” and then tell her she's being stupid, but surprisingly Derek is only standing there. Carefully pitching his voice to a softer tone. Ok. Maybe not soft per say, but less reminiscent of a growl or claws on a chalk board. “Erica.”

 

“I can't paint my nails, ok?!” Scoffs, throwing a hand up to release some of the building energy from her bones. “It's stupid and dumb and the last thing I should care about, but it bothers me!” A car drives by and startles her, forcing her to skirt away and fall into Derek's side where he is impossibly warm and tall and handsome and all the things she stumbled over when they first met. She hates him a little, sometimes. Like right now when she wants to throw a fit and be heard. Be feared like any other teenage girl is feared by their parents. She wants to kick and scowl and tantrum all over the town just like Lydia Martin or, fuck, Jackson!

 

“Your nails?” Derek blinks twice, staring down at her from beneath the shadow that seems to linger over him at all times (even in open fields in the fucking sunshine Derek manages to be shadowed). He looks like some pale pretty vampire from the books her mom bought her during all her stays in the hospital: that she hated but read because there was usually a happy ending and Erica liked to see someone get the boy in the end.

 

“Yes. My nails. I can't paint them because if I use my claws they fuck up! And yes. I know that's petty, and stupid and the least important part. I don't think the hunters are going to wait until I'm not wearing “kitten heels pink” or “my kryptonite” before they attack. So I get it, it's stupid to care! I have a rocking bod. Tits for miles, and my hair is BEAUTIFUL! Derek. God dammit. My hair so so fluffy I don't even know what to do with it most days!” She grabs her hair and flings it a bit to prove a point. “And I know! Shutup. I KNOW this is what I wanted! To be powerful. To be strong and healthy! That all the things I got out of this deal are totally worth giving up nail polish!”

 

Erica doesn't realize the only thing keeping her standing is Derek's hands supporting her arms.

 

“But I wasn't allowed to! Ok? I couldn't wear make up or nail polish before! My mom wouldn't let me! She was too scared that she wouldn't be able to see my lips losing color or my nails turning blue if I was all “painted up”. So I had to go to school looking like a frumpy twelve year old girl while everyone else was so beautiful and I couldn't because of this stupid disorder-that I had to become a fucking werewolf to be NORMAL!

 

“So yes. I'm a little pissed off that even with the nice skin and crazy abilities and finally-FINALLY having people look at me for once in my life without laughing... I still CAN'T paint my fucking nails!”

 

She's huffing and puffing trying to catch her breath, leaning into Derek until her forehead is pressed securely against his heartbeat. Not certain if she or the wolf now living in her skin sought out that exact spot, but the steady rhythm calms her. Brings her back from the shaking, spoiled frenzy with the weight of embarrassment riding her skin. Derek's hands are scalding hot even through her jacket, strong, and it reminds Erica of a school project back in the fifth grade about Greek columns. How she was the only one in the class who felt the ionic columns appeared to be holding the weight with tight fitted hands. Holding on confidently, promising not to fail in their job, even if they were nothing more than painted plaster. Just decoration.

 

“I'm so stupid.” She exhales against his pale, ugly shirt (one of millions that make him look like the sexiest serial killer the world has ever seen) and tries to retreat. Wanting to pull back into her mock confidence and charade of painted smiles and flirty lashes where she now feels safest. Derek doesn't seem willing to let her though, squeezing arms until the smallest discomfort makes itself known by her wince.

 

“I can't wear cologne.”

 

It's possibly the strangest thing she's ever heard him say, next to his awkward babbled apology after he gave her the bite and accidentally dropped her onto the hospital floor.

 

“What?”

 

“I can't wear cologne. It makes my eyes water. The scent is too strong and my skin burns under it. Actually most male werewolves have to use sensitive skin soaps and shaving cream because we can't tolerate the irritation. Females are better at it than us, better pain tolerance.” She's not certain if she should be smiling or taking this very seriously. Derek was moody that way.

 

“Really?”

 

“Try being in the boy's locker room and having to use your aunt's “delicate touch” deodorant because they don't make many options for boys.”

 

This time she does snort and quickly brings a hand to her lips, like hiding the offender would negate the crime. Derek is almost, actually smiling though. Usually harsh eyes softened just at the edges and the pinched lines of stress, not age, are creaking with the relaxation. Erica drops her hand and giggles freely and Derek loosens the grip on her arms.

 

“I'm sorry you were a smelly boy.”

 

“I'm sorry you have claws that can rip apart titanium but can't be lolipop pink.”

 

Any other time Erica might have tried to assert herself, try to kiss Derek or make for an inappropriate grab in hopes of him wanting her back...but she couldn't ruin the moment. He was very nearly smiling and she has few memories of boys smiling at her. Erica gladly returns the favor and stashes the moment away. (Safely, next to her first pet and the time Stiles held her hand at a field trip when they were much smaller and life was much less complicated.)

 

It's nice to know, even with all the smoke and mirrors of Derek's damaged confidence, there's hope that they can still smile, even when the worst will happen.

 

He offers to drive her home but she refuses, reminds him that she's pretty much more dangerous than anything out there and he agrees. Face fading back into that cocky swag that makes him look more bored with the world than anything. Nice while it lasted. She washes her face and changes when she gets home. Hugs her mom and swears she's taking her medicine regularly. Keeping up the charade of humble little Erica for her mother's s ake. When it's time to sleep, she does with ease. Appreciating the fact that she can just vaguely feel her pack's heartbeat in the distance. That it feels like a promise from her Alpha that everything will be alright. Eventually...

 

Derek still makes Isaac paint Erica's and Boyd's toe nails as punishment for being an ass though.

 

 


End file.
